


Elijah's Home

by Rakshi



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-02
Updated: 2011-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-26 19:21:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/286972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rakshi/pseuds/Rakshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elijah's been away but now he's back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Elijah's Home

It’s always this way. I try to be casual. I try to act nonchalant. I’m never sure if I manage to bring it off. I probably don’t fool anyone, least of all him.

He’s been gone for so long. And when I see him I just can’t seem to pull it together. He’s there. Standing there. Real. Breathing. If I took two steps forward and reached out my hand, I could actually touch him. Not just think about it and long for it. Actually touch him. He’s here.

Elijah.

And I wonder when breathing stopped being an involuntary function. I wonder when I had to start thinking about every inhale and exhale. I force myself to pull in air through a chest that feels constricted and way too tight to hold it. Because he’s standing there looking at me… and that one simple act takes my breath away.

And when he walks to me, smiling, glad to see me, I feel my hands start to shake. I want to touch him so badly that I ache. The sight of him leaves me hungry all over.

We talk, and his voice thrums through my body. I hear what he’s saying. I smile and nod. But another part of me stands spellbound, not hearing a word. He could be reciting the phone book. It doesn’t matter. I hear his voice. His voice. That’s all that matters. The words are irrelevant.

He smiles and my knees nearly buckle. God in heaven, he’s magic. His presence generates a force that seduces me body and soul. It can’t be explained. I don’t claim to understand it. He walks through the door and every head turns toward him. Like flowers seeking the sun, we all want his light.

But now the light belongs to me.

His fingers touch mine and I feel it in every cell. Every nerve ending. My whole body responds to that one, soft touch. He skates his fingertips over my palm and my hand closes over his before I can even think. It’s not much. Just his hand. But I’m touching him. And that’s all it takes to damn near bring me to my knees.

“Lij,” I whisper. He hears the plea in my voice and smiles.

“Hey,” he half-whispers tightening his hand. “I missed you, dude.”

I try to speak. Try to tell him how much I missed him. Try to tell him how I craved the sound of his voice. That we talked so rarely that it nearly killed me. That schedules, and time zones, and distance were enemies that I fought with all my strength, and never quite overcame. It was noon where I was - it was 3 AM where he was. He was asleep when I was awake. I was awake, and he was on a shoot in some faraway location.

And the times when we did manage to talk, were a different kind of torture. Trying not to let him hear how much I hurt inside. Biting my lip when my throat grew painfully tight. Forcing myself not to say the things that my heart yearned to say. Struggling not to ask the questions that raved in my mind day after lonely day. ‘Do you still love me? Do you miss me? Have you found someone else? Do you think of us lying in bed together and ache for me as I ache for you?’

I never said those things, thank god. I didn’t let myself speak of the fear that choked me in the night. I joked and laughed. I poked fun at both of us. I spoke in tones of light and cheerful banter while my body cried out for him and my heart quaked with the fear of losing him.

And now he stands there… waiting for my answer. Playing with my fingers out of sight of everyone else in the room. I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. I clear my throat and look away, then look back and try again. "I - I missed you… too." I worry that my voice sounded too soft. Too needy. But he smiles and leans closer to me.

"Let’s leave," he whispers. His head lifts and when those eyes meet mine my breath catches in my throat. I nod, because speaking would be impossible. Does he see it in my face… how I'm feeling right now? How the thought of being alone with him… in bed with him… naked with him… causes my very bones to melt?

He turns without a word and walks toward the door. I give him a minute, take a couple deep breaths, then follow. I know half the eyes in the room have seen us start for the exit. But I don't care. Let them see. I catch Dom's eye as my hand touches the doorknob and he winks before turning back to his conversation.

I spot Elijah climbing into his Cooper and run to him. "Want me to follow you?" I pant.

"No. Ride with me. Wanna touch you, Sean. I can't wait till we get home. I'll go fucking nuts."

I spend most of the ride to his house with my lower lip caught between my teeth to stifle my moans, while his fingers slide slowly up and down my thigh. Finally I grab his hand and look at him almost pleadingly. “God, Lijah. Please. If you keep doing that I’ll…” I let the sentence slide into nothingness. He knows what I was about to say though, and he laughs softly.

Minutes later we’re pulling into his drive. “We’re here,” he says quietly. He kills the engine and for a moment we sit silently, staring out into the darkness, not even looking at each other. I hear the engine ticking as it cools and I can almost feel the sweat forming on my forehead. I turn to look at him and when his eyes meet mine he wheels and opens his door. “Let’s go.”

I close my door and move quickly to his side of the car as he gets out. The hunger I feel for him is more than I can bear. I have to touch him. I moan softly as my arms go around him and my face falls forward into his neck. My arms lock around him and I crush his body against mine.

The rush is incredible. I could drown in him. Want to drown in him. Want to lose myself completely. His fingers clench in my hair as he pulls me into his kiss… and I’m gone.

I feel his lips part and hear him laughing. I pull back, suddenly self conscious and afraid. Is he laughing at me? He sees my look and guesses its source in a heartbeat. His fingers tighten in my hair again and pull me forward until his lips are against my ear.

“I’m happy, Sean,” he breathes, making me shiver. “I’m happy we’re together.”

I kiss the soft lips that I adore and feel the laughter rising inside me too. Joy. Pure, unadulterated joy.

“Can we go in now?” he asks, grinning.

I nod and stumble after him, not even daring to think about what this night is going to be like. What it’s going to do to me. How much more I’m going to love him before dawn. How he’s going to make me feel. He loves it, I know, when he drives me half crazy. He loves to push me to the brink.

Oh god, I hope I survive.

Elijah’s home.


End file.
